


Tarantism

by browncoatfromtheshire



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: Angst and Humor, F/M, Fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-28
Updated: 2012-10-28
Packaged: 2017-11-17 05:11:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/547974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/browncoatfromtheshire/pseuds/browncoatfromtheshire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tarantism - The urge to overcome melancholy by dancing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tarantism

**Author's Note:**

  * For [spiritofemby](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiritofemby/gifts).



> This ficlet was from a prompt I received on tumblr from spiritofemby.

Sereda gazed out into the night. Moonlight falling onto the few rooftops of Redcliffe village that had survived the darkspawn attack. Things were bleak, and the crinkle in her brow was threatening to become a permanent fixture on her face.

She turned around to see Alistair shuffling into the room. “Happy now?” he grumbled. 

That stung. ”Of course not! But I’m not going to lose you! and if having you make a creepy god-babies with Morrigan is what it takes so be it!” her voice shook.

Alistair strode over the cold stone floor to wrap his arms around her bending his head to nuzzle his cheek against the top of her head, the flyaway hairs tickling his nose. ”I’m sorry,” he whispered. She didn’t answer but squeezed him tight in return.

They stayed like that for several minutes when there was suddenly a roar of cheering downstairs. 

Unable to rein in her curiosity even to continue their pleasant, reconciliatory embrace, Sereda ventured down the dark stairwell to the great hall below where a crowd was gathered around three soldiers with makeshift musical instruments and Leliana performing a jaunty jig. A few lively souls were dancing, but most were happy to stick to the sidelines, clapping in time.

Sereda grinned at Alistair, never one to shy away from kicking up her feet, especially when the proverbial shit was looking to hit the fan in its usual style. Alistair would take a bit more convincing though. 

”Oh no! No no no no!” he had to yell to be heard over the din, “No way, I’m going in there making a fool of myself. I assure you woman, I can’t dance. I’m even less graceful than Oghren over there!” 

Sereda’s eyes followed Alistair’s finger pointing toward the red-headed, stocky dwarf, already tripping over his own feet in the corner. She rolled her eyes. He better be up to form for the march to Denerim tomorrow. 

She raised her eyebrow at Alistair. ”Nope,” he responded, folding his arms and looking away from her pouting expression deliberately. ”Ow!” Alistair cried out as she landed a wallop on his upper arm, forcing him to look back at her. She pouted and fluttered her eyelashes. ”Maker, spare me!” he sighed. ”Fine, let’s just hope my dancing doesn’t kill everyone and save them from fighting the Archdemon.”

With a grin that took years off her face she tugged him toward the centre of the hall. Alistair couldn’t help but smile in spite of himself as he was dragged toward what he felt was certain doom.


End file.
